


I Will Follow You

by bessmertny



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Character Death, F/M, I am Kinda Sorry, ppl ily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:17:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bessmertny/pseuds/bessmertny





	

 

He is the one to find her.

On numb legs, he walks and walks through blood and destruction and _she’s there_.

Cassian stops moving only when he’s in front of her, and she’s, she’s-

Nesta doesn’t move, her eyes are half open but the color in them -that blue, the smoke under glass, the sky- is fading and her fighting leathers are glistening as if they are wet with something thick and warm and red and-

He doesn’t fight, doesn’t try to stay upright when his knees give up.

His hands move without Cassian realizing it, move toward Nesta as they always did, as they always will.

He cradles her in his arms and there’s no sharp intake of breath, no pounding of her heart, there’s just- nothing, nothing but the fading warmth of her body, the way in which her arms fall to the ground, lifeless, and the thud of it makes him realize for a moment that there’s no clash of swords, no battle cry that he can hear.

He feels nothing, he hears nothing, he is-

_Nothing_.  

His lungs are being crushed by the weight of a string that’s been cut, the air he is breathing feels like an unwanted guest and it only make him realize how her scent is changing and it makes him _sick,_ makes him want to scream and roar and rage.

But he chuckles, a broken sound, a twisted parody of what it used to be.

“I’m coming, sweetheart,” he says to her, using the little endearing name he had - _has, has, has-_ for her, but it’s just a broken sob “I know you don’t like to be kept waiting.”

He is aware of the shattering sound his siphons make, he knows that his power is building and building and building, and he knows what it means.

_Good_.

He moves her hair out of her face with the tip of his fingers, cups her cheek; his fingers linger and his eyes are on her, always on her as his hand moves to unhook the last remaining siphon, the one near her head, on his chest.

Cassian kisses Nesta’s forehead, shatters the siphon between his fingers, lets it all out.

It’s blast of red and in those last moment, he thinks she would have loved it.

Nothing is left of them, of the battlefield, of _everything_.

 

 

When Starfall comes, the Night Court is in mourning.

There’s a little group on a balcony, a Lord and his Lady, a Shadow and his Light, an Ancient creature who never felt so tiny.

The stars are falling, one by one.

Two stars are the only exception.

Two stars that burn red and bright, two stars that are so near each other they seem one, stubbornly keeping their place in the sky.

They all look up, and a smile graces the lips of the Lord and his family, all looking up to watch those two stars who are looking down on them, their light like protection, their twinkle a little song, a melody, three words once loved and still kept

_To defend, to honor, to cherish_.


End file.
